Gone
by tradermare
Summary: A retelling of events from the end of Halfway to the Grave, and One Foot in the Grave from Bones POV. Character: Bones
1. Chapter 1

The characters belong to Jeaniene Frost, I'm just playing with them.

Thanks to Kristin Elizabeth for being an awesome beta, and fan of Cat & Bones!

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Bones

I was so preoccupied with thinking through my next steps for getting us out of the country, that I didn't notice anything was wrong until we were almost back to Rodney's house. No heartbeats. No car. Something squeezed my chest and I didn't know if it was anger, fear or both, but I knew, she was gone.

I was out of the car and into the house before Rodney stopped in the driveway. The silence inside only made me more aware of everything that was missing. No smell of blood. No sign of struggle. No Kitten. She was gone.

I heard Rodney come up behind me when I noticed the note and watch on the table. Another squeeze, razor-sharp. Gone.

I deserved a good flogging for not seeing this last night. The desperate embraces, the tears, the "thanking"… it all made sense now. Blimey, why didn't I see it? Blinded by my own happiness, I could not think of anything but having her back in my arms, safe. I closed my eyes and heard her voice, _I will love you every day until I die_, now knowing she had really meant "goodbye." Another squeeze, harder yet.

I sat down at the table, picked up the watch, and turned it over in my hands. She didn't need me anymore. That was the message … she would not be paging me to come to her, ever again. A slicing pain accompanied the squeeze this time, cutting me from her life.

Bloody hell. I knew what the note would say. She left to protect me. Didn't she know by now I could protect myself? I felt anger rising within me. She loved me, but didn't believe in me, didn't believe in us. She didn't believe we could make it. She did not give me enough time to convince her. She used my own words against us. She didn't think we could win the battle, and so she chose not to fight. She folded her hand, instead of playing it.

I should have paid closer attention to the bloody blokes in that car with her. What sort of rot did they feed her? Her mum had to be part of it, too. They would have used all their cleverness to ensnare her. What buttons did they push to get her to run? They threatened her, they did, and she ran right into their trap under the pretext of protecting those she loved. As long as I knew her, that was her way, to taunt danger and have it chase her, luring it away from those she wanted to protect. She wouldn't have had a chance against their skills. I had thought she was past running from me. What a bloody fool I was to think that. _I will love you every day until I die. _If only she had loved me enough to believe in me. Squeezing pain turned to anger.

Rodney watched from the doorway, keeping his distance from the furious power vibrating and leaking off of me.

"They only have four hours head start, Bones. You can catch up to her."

I looked up at Rodney and a grim smile snarled my lips.

"Bloody right, I'll catch her."

As we searched the house for clues, I remembered my words to her—_If you run from me, I'll chase you. And I'll find you..._

I was good at chasing her, and this time, I would make her believe.

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Okay, I know it's short, hope you liked it, and I'd love to know what you think -- did I get Bones right? Press the green button and let me know!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: The news article that appears in this chapter is a very special contribution from my friend, writing collaborator and beta, Kristin Elizabeth. Thanks L'sis – You are awesome!

If you love Cat and Bones, please be sure to read Kristin's story, _Crossbones_, at

http:// www. fanfiction. net /s /5731620 / 1/ CrossBones (remove the spaces, of course)

Jeaniene Frost owns these wonderful characters, I'm just borrowing them.

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A search of Rodney's house yielded no useful clues as to Kitten's whereabouts and aside from a suspiciously spotless bathroom mirror, and the faint, lingering scent of her and her mum, she had wiped the house clean of all traces of anything useful. Bloody hell – if she thought that would stop me from coming after her, she was mistaken. Had she forgotten I was a bounty hunter? Did she think I would just let her run? Didn't she know she meant everything to me? Going back to a life without her? Not bloody likely.

She had taken her new black Volvo SUV, the Christmas present she said was too expensive. They probably wouldn't let her keep it, whoever "they" were, but for now, maybe she would think of me when she drove it, and there was the chance I could use its identification numbers to find her.

No sense in lingering at Rodney's – I needed some belongings from the cave, before I left Licking Falls for good. No bloody reason to stay around there, because no matter what agency twisted her thinking, they wouldn't let her return to her hometown. _Some branch of government._ That's what she said. I could hardly wait to beat the seven shades of shit out of the worthless sods that worked her over. I was going to find out which agency was responsible, and sod anyone who got in my way.

With a quick goodbye to Rodney, and a loan of his car, I drove back to Ohio.

**oooo**

My anger festered during the hour-long drive to the cave, and I mentally flogged myself for allowing some government types to squirrel her away from me, when disappearing had been my plan all along. I didn't fancy being bested at my own game. Bloody hell, if only we had left for Ontario straight away, I wouldn't be facing this jam, or my own broken heart. _They_ should be trying to find her, not me.

I couldn't dally at the cave; there were too many memories there. Straightaway, I threw some essentials into a bag while I started my laptop, intending to look for news reports on the esteemed governor's demise. Concealing the murder of the governor was not bloody likely, and the news report might provide clues as to Kitten's current whereabouts. While I waited, I looked around the cave, knowing I was finished here. I let myself remember everything, her brash bravery, our training, the first time we made love, so many memories that a ripple of sadness swept over me. I tried to shake it off, and focused on finding the online newspaper, since every minute wasted made the trail colder. It didn't take long to find what I was looking for.

_**Woman suspected of Oliver murder killed in I-270 pile-up **_

_**Bexley, OH (12/11/2007)—**__A Licking Falls woman who was believed to have murdered Ohio Governor, Ethan Oliver, last week, was killed yesterday in an automobile pile up on Interstate 270, shortly after escaping FBI custody. _

_The woman, identified as__Catherine Crawfield, 22, had been in custody for several hours before managing to escape during a planned transfer, en route to Port Columbus International Airport. _

_A press statement released late last night said Ms Crawfield had been distraught upon being taken into custody, and gave a full confession upon her capture._

"_While it was not the outcome we would have wanted, it does ensure us that no one else will come to harm at the hands of Ms Crawfield, and we can more or less close the books on it," an FBI Spokesperson said in the statement. "It appears there was no real motive for the assassination of the Governor, and we believed the woman was simply mentally disturbed. We're just happy we were able to end it before she hurt anyone else on her rampage."_

_Several people suffered non-life threatening injuries in the pileup that occurred just past the I-270 onramp at E Broad St. The victims, including an infant and an elderly man, were taken to the nearest hospital and released shortly after. _

NO...NO…NO. She wasn't dead. It appeared that the FBI had her, most likely in the federal witness protection program, and it was bloody hard to crack, I knew from experience. They would leave not a trace, as if she vanished in a puff of smoke. No matter, the buggers would be sorry when I found her… and them.

No bloody way I believed she was dead, but the thought of it sliced through me, and I paced through the cave, angry and unsettled. Looking into our training room, my mind rolled back to the beginning, the very first night, Kitten so brave and feisty, remembering the first time I saw her bloody eyes glow green. Thinking of how she took to my training and her aptitude for throwing her silver, at least she would have a bleeding' chance if whoever took her, turned on her.

However, when I looked into the bedroom, the sight of the bed shattered me. So many firsts rested there – our first time making love, the first night I drank from her, and, most of all, the night she gave me her heart and admitted she loved me. The memories exploded my heart in a raging fireball that blazed within me, looking for release.

My composure cracked into a million pieces. I grabbed that empty bed, as it mocked me for her absence and I flipped it with a keening moan, tearing it apart with my bare hands, until it was nothing but bits of cloth and metal. I didn't stop there, going from room to room, destroying everything with my bare hands. When that wasn't enough to give me release, I punched the walls until my knuckles bled, letting them heal and then repeating it over again, until my rage was spent, and my eyes were wet with pink. How would I bear not having her in my life? She was mine, and I was hers – and I could not go back to a life without her. Spent from my fit of rage, I placed my head in my hands, and let the sadness flow from me, until I could feel no more.

Much later, I gathered up my belongings, and even though I was knackered, there would be no rest tonight. Without looking back, I left the trashed cave. I took my memories of Kitten with me, locked away in my silent heart.

**oooo**

I waited outside the hospital, until the wee hours of the morning, when only a skeleton crew remained. Mt. Carmel East Hospital was closest to the scene of yesterday's pileup on the interstate and the morgue was in its usual location in the basement. Even though I was sure the news article was a ruse, verification was required. I gave the morgue attendant a peep of my green-eyes.

"Show me the body of Catherine Crawfield." I commanded him.

He consulted his clipboard, and then opened the small silver door. He pulled the shelf out of the refrigerated compartment, tossing back the sheet covering the body, and relief washed over me when I saw the brunette hair and dark skin. Blimey, the FBI agents were bloody fools, compromising her safety already with this blunder. There was no need to see any more of the corpse – she was just another throwaway body, and the government acted no different from Hennessey and his throwaway girls. Bloody hell.

I turned back to the attendant. "Shut it. Now show me the paperwork for this body."

The lad closed the compartment as instructed, went over to the desk, and retrieved a thin folder. A death certificate for Catherine Crawfield, 22, of Licking Falls, Ohio, and a one-page police report describing her crimes, made up the two pages of the file. Nothing much to go on, save the one signature that appeared on both.

Donald Williams. My first clue.

**oooo**

Kitten had suspected her apartment would be trashed when she told me about my Christmas present, and she had been spot on. I could smell them—the human sods that ransacked the place, along with the scent of Hennessey's vampires. Made me right glad I killed the lot of them. There were too many different scents to distinguish a specific person or vampire, except for hers.

As I looked around for any clues, one of her leather gloves caught my eye, and blast it all, I couldn't keep from picking it up and inhaling. For all I knew, it might be the last bloody time I took pleasure in her scent, so I dampened my anger and drank it in. _I will love you every day until I die. _Bloody hell, I had to stop this and get down to finding her before the trail went cold. I shoved the glove in my pocket and continued going through the small rooms, trying not to crack again under the memories. I couldn't be certain, but I thought I caught a whiff of the sod I had tossed from the car.

The box was under the loose board in the kitchen cabinet, just where she said it would be. I pulled it free, taking care not to rip the Christmas wrap. I would not open it until we were together again. No matter what it took, I would bloody well find her and wear it for her.

Finished with my walkthrough of the apartment, the neighbor lad ran smack into me on my way out, his red-rimmed eyes a giveaway that he had seen the news reports. In my haste, I could have knocked him unconscious, but then I remembered Kitten's protectiveness toward this lad, and took pity on him. After all, he had bailed Kitten out a few times with her mum, and facing down Justina was no easy task. He had some stones, because even though I could smell his fear, he stood his ground and started to question me.

"Is she gone?" He wiped at his eyes with his hand and continued. "I don't believe she would do such a thing. The news has to be wrong. She wouldn't."

I cut him off with a cold voice. "She's gone, mate. You won't see her again. Best get that through your head."

He nodded, backing up, letting me pass by with nothing more to say, and I wasn't waiting around for any more conversation. I strapped the present to the back of my bike, and looked at the apartment for the last time. I heard her sweet voice and thought I felt her warm lips at my ear, repeating her last words to me. _Be careful, Bones. Just please...be careful_.

I started my bike and drove away like a bat out of hell. I couldn't stand to be without her, and I vowed I would find her, no matter what it took, or how long.

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AN: I hope you liked this chapter and I'm thinking there are about 3 more to go in this story. I'd love to know what you think, so press the green button and let me know!

Thanks again Kristin, for all your help, support and patience! {{{ hugs }}}


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Important stuff first: Thanks to my wonderful beta, Kristin Elizabeth, for all of her support and encouragement, along with her excellent beta skills! *hugs*

This chapter contains a very, very minor spoiler (if you could even call it that) for First Drop of Crimson.

Jeaniene Frost owns these wonderful characters, I'm just borrowing them.

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_**December, 1 year later**_

The sound of a car approaching the house snapped me to attention. I wasn't expecting anyone, and I didn't suppose anyone even knew my location. The unmistakable sound of a Porsche engine stopped outside on the driveway near the front door. Bloody hell, what was Charles doing here? I surely wasn't in the mood for an affable social call, or a chiding over my behavior this past year. If anyone knew my pain, it was Charles, and I wasn't looking for any heartfelt conversations about it, even if he was my best mate. Nothing he could say would change anything.

I waited for Charles to reach the front door, and considered ignoring the booming knock I heard seconds later. It was exactly one year ago that Kitten left me, and I wanted to be alone. However, having come all this way, Charles was not about to just up and leave. I hadn't seen him since Kitten left me, not wanting to dredge up reminders for him of his own loss of the woman he loved. I knew it still burned him, and I didn't want to hear his thoughts on consorting with human women, either.

Charles had just started a second round of banging on my door when I opened it.

"Hallo there, Charles." I gave him a cool look. "What are you doing here?"

"My sire thought you could use some company."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Bollocks. More like he's checking up on me." I stood in the space between the door and frame, keeping the door close to my body, attempting to discourage him from wanting to come inside.

Charles raised an eyebrow at me. "Aren't you going to invite me in, Crispin?"

With a snort, I reluctantly opened the door wider and let him pass by. I shut it with a slam, and he gave me a surprised look before he followed me into the den.

I asked again. "Why are you here, Charles?" He ignored me.

"Aren't you going to offer me a drink?"

I walked to the credenza holding the liquor decanter and glasses, trying to temper my annoyance. "I suppose I should. Whiskey?"

"Yes, that would be nice. Thank you." Charles sat in one of the chairs in the den, shifting until he was comfortable, all the while making me irritable at his intrusion. After all, I had some plans for the evening, and I wanted to be alone.

I poured a generous whiskey into a fresh glass, and then refilled my own. I handed Charles his drink, resigned he would be staying now. He took a long swallow before he spoke.

"Well, let's just cut to the chase, shall we? I take it there is no progress finding Cat, then?"

His question was a bitter reminder of my failure. An entire bloody year and there was nothing, not even a hint of her. She had vanished into the smoke, into the air, as it were. Yet, every day I looked for any little thing that might bring her back to me. A year later, and all I had was a name, Donald Williams, the assumption she was most likely with the FBI, and one new clue – a vehicle history reporting the Volvo totaled in a fire six months ago. There was no trace of Kitten or Justina, anywhere. Well hidden, they were.

"No, Charles. Not a whiff of her or her mum. She's vanished, but I'll find her, mark my words." Charles' look of pity drew my anger. "This is not your concern, Charles, so I'm asking again, why are you here?"

"You're my best mate, Crispin. That's why I'm here." Charles took another drink. "No one has heard from you this past year. You might have well vanished yourself."

"Well, I've been busy. Work and all."

Charles snorted at my mention of work. "Bollocks. Word is you aren't taking any jobs."

"What did you think I would do? Hmm? Just let her walk away? Finding her _is_ my job, my only job."

What I told Charles was absolutely true, finding her had been my only job this past year – I took no others. At first, I resolved to rescue the woman I loved, but the longer I searched, finding her became a contract, no different from any other job. On the good days, I devised new strategies to look for her, and on the worst days, I cursed ever knowing her, training her, loving her. I was focused…and bloody angry, a dangerous combination, and not fit to be around anyone.

I had gone to as many vampire clubs and bars as I could, reasoning she was still playing our old bait and hook game, only now for the FBI. Why else would they want her? It was bloody unlikely she would give up what she loved most—killing vampires—and her mum would be right there, patting her on the back for it. The blasted sods that took her from me had to know what she was and what she could do, to whisk her away as they did. I couldn't wait to get my bloody hands on the sods that ripped her from me.

"I know you are hurting, Crispin, that's why I'm here. No need to be alone in this. You were there for me when Giselda…"

I cut him off, barking at him. "Kitten is NOT DEAD! Don't you dare compare her to Giselda."

Charles didn't flinch, he just stared at me a moment, and said in a quiet voice, "Right then. So, how can you be sure? Indeed, she has some special skills, but she's still half human."

Blast it all, why wouldn't Charles just let it go, his question the one I didn't want to consider, let alone answer. Bloody hell, I couldn't bear the thought of it.

I took another drink and gave Charles a hard stare back, answering truthfully. "I don't know, Charles. But I refuse to think of that as a possibility. With her skills and bloodline, diluted, though it may be, until I know different, she is alive. I won't stop looking for her, I won't. Until the day I hold her cold dead body in my arms, she is alive."

Charles' face clouded over. This was exactly why I didn't want to see him, knowing my situation with Kitten would bring back too many bad memories for him. Kitten leaving had me twisted into nastiness, even with my best mate.

"So sorry, Charles. I didn't mean to bring up unpleasant memories for you, too. I'm not good company these days. You should probably go."

Charles relaxed back into his chair, and closed his eyes. I could see my foul temper had opened some old wounds.

"Listen mate, if you insist, I'll be off then." Charles paused for a moment and swirled the last swallow of his drink in his glass, before tossing it back. "I wish you well, my friend. I hope you find her, and soon, for both your sakes." When Charles stood up to leave, I didn't stop him, but answered him in a more congenial voice, not hiding the fact I was glad to put an end to this conversation.

"Charles, I don't mean to be rude, but leave it alone, especially tonight. I'll keep in touch, I promise."

"All right, Crispin, I'll be taking my leave then. Ring me up if I there is anything I can do. Anything. I'm off to find supper. I don't suppose you'd want to join me?"

"Not tonight, mate."

He clasped my shoulder on our way to the door, and I gave him a friendly nod as he left. I watched him drive off into the night.

Back in the den, I poured myself another whiskey and opened the concealed safe that was behind a false panel in the wall. A year ago, I placed the items in there, hoping to lock up my unbearable longing for her in there with them. The Christmas gift I retrieved from her kitchen almost filled the inside, and on top of it rested the glove I took from her apartment, the watch I gave her, along with that bloody note she left me. It was all I had of her. I pulled out the glove, the watch and the note, placing them on the desk, where I sat with my drink. I would allow myself this tonight.

I could still catch her scent on all of them, but it was fading, no doubt. I picked up the glove and breathed in deeply, taking in her smell, remembering every detail about her. The memories came back in a flood, threatening to take me under and keep me there. I thought of her crimson hair, flowing around her face, her soft pale skin, her gray eyes that flashed green like mine. A shudder shook my body, and I took a deep swallow of my drink. There was a good reason I kept my thoughts of her at bay for the last year – I ached for my Kitten in the worst way.

I thought back on Charles' words when I picked up the watch that had saved her from getting her throat ripped out by Hennessy. Remembering how she helped me slaughter Hennessey's people the night we rescued her mum, I smiled. She was a killer, just like me. But Charles' words whispered in the back of my mind – what if she was gone forever? Bloody hell, could I bear it? One hundred fifty years and Charles still mourned Giselda. Call it denial, or what you will, but Kitten was still alive, she had to be.

I looked at her note on my desk. I hated that bloody note, and the lies it told – the lies she believed. I wanted to rip it into little pieces, but I couldn't. Someday I would refute everything she believed in that bloody note. She thought we would never work, but I knew we could, and I would prove that to her. Once I found her again, I would stop at nothing to get her to understand, and I'd put her in chains again to make her listen. I had only read that bloody note once, that very first day she left, and I wouldn't read the lies again. But the paper held her scent and like the glove, I breathed it in, enjoying the smell of her. I let myself think of the last time we were together, and how she clung to me. I was done flogging myself for not seeing what was coming from her desperate embraces —tonight I was just happy that I had the memory of them. I closed my eyes and felt her arms around me, remembering her telling me that it was the luckiest day of her life when she met me. I let the scene replay in my mind, over and over, imprinting it there. I felt the same, I did, I was the lucky one for her coming into my life, falling prey to her love. _I will love you every day until I die._ Some days I cursed those words, wondering how she could say she loved me, then leave me. But tonight, I answered her silently, as I sat there with all I had left of her. _ It is the same for me, my lovely red-haired reaper and I vow I will never stop looking for you._

Close to dawn, I locked the mementos back in the safe, vowing to continue my hunt for her, no matter how long it might take. I would never give up.

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Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it. More to come in the next chapter (can I tease you a little and say, Ian?) I'd love to hear from you, so please press the green button and tell me what you think about my Bones story! *hugs*


	4. Chapter 4

Important stuff first:

Jeaniene Frost owns these characters. I'm just playing with them.

Big hugs of gratitude to my wonderful beta, Kristin Elizabeth. She's awesome. If you haven't read her o/s, CrossBones, you really should. It is terrific!

You can find it at: http: // www. fanfiction. net/ s/ 5731620/ 1/ CrossBones

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Chapter 4

I paid the cab driver and turned around to face the San Francisco Pacific Heights mansion. Blimey, it was definitely Ian's house—opulent, artistic, and designed for entertaining. By the looks of it, the Italianate mansion was a survivor of the 1906 earthquake and just the type of historical landmark Ian would love to flaunt. As usual, Ian had done up a fancy show. There was a flurry of activity outside the house, with catering trucks lining the drive while valets parked cars and music wafted out to the street. Knowing my sire, this bleeding affair had a purpose, and I wondered what sort of rot Ian planned to dish out tonight.

Charles shared his suspicions regarding Ian's agenda when he had rung me up a few days ago. Ian had invited Charles to the party, which made it bloody likely Mencheres would be there as well. At least he could keep Ian in check if it came to that. Ian could be a wanker, no doubt, and I would be right smart to keep my guard up. To that end, I scouted the grounds before making my way inside. The property was quite lovely, with beautiful gardens and view of the San Francisco Bay, and it suited Ian's penchant for the rare and unusual. No matter to me though, as this party was the last place I wanted to be. Bloody hell, I hoped Ian wasn't planning to keep me here long.

I hadn't fancied leaving the east coast right now. After four long years, I had finally narrowed Kitten's current whereabouts to one of three states—Maryland, Delaware or Virginia. I was so bloody close to finding her—I just knew it. If I wasn't on top of it, the blasted FBI could whisk her away again, and that wouldn't happen again, unless it was over my dried, shriveled body.

Even though there were more rumors and even some facts at the ready, locating Kitten, and even Justina, proved elusive. I even searched for her father, looking for his death records around the time of Justina's rape, but I found nothing. Someone had gone to great lengths to hide everyone. I still hadn't unraveled how the FBI knew about her back in Ohio when they talked her away from me, but I felt sure they knew what she was back then. Bugger, I was missing something important.

I was just about to hack into the FBI database with my new mate, Randy MacGregor, when I received my "invitation" from Ian. I had met Randy at a Richmond bar one night, and he was right interesting. He could do things with a computer that I couldn't even fathom. I was already beginning to benefit from his enthusiasm and aptitude for hacking into government systems; an asset I could bloody well put to good use, and soon.

The entrance to the mansion was on the side, up a set of stairs, to a landing leading into the foyer. Ian's people were milling about throughout the foyer and it took me a minute to locate him toward the back of the entrance hall. The crowd parted a bit and I glimpsed a fetching red-haired woman hanging on his arm. _It couldn't be._ Her back was to me, but for a split second, I thought … and at that precise moment, Ian turned to look me in the eye, curling his lips into a devilish smile that let me know that as my sire, he had felt my reaction. Of course, it wasn't Kitten, but it reminded me of Charles' suspicions about Ian's motives. Could it be a coincidence that his latest human had long, red hair, exactly like my Kitten? Ian's grin told me he knew exactly the game he was playing. It was going to be a bloody long night, if this is what he had in mind.

I put my emotions under tight rein, quickly slamming my suspicions down, and walked over to greet my sire in the required formal manner, my face a cool mask. "Good evening, sire. Lovely party."

Ian might have been smiling at me, but his eyes raked me up and down in an almost adversarial manner. "Hallo, Crispin, glad you are here, mate. I thought the anniversary of the 1906 earthquake would be a good excuse for a party in my new home, don't you agree?"

I laughed. "Since when did you need an excuse for a bash?"

Ian laughed too, and clasped me on the shoulder. "Right you are—I don't need an excuse. Charles and Mencheres are about somewhere and I have poker planned for us later. Relax and enjoy the party and I'll catch up with you later."

With that, he greeted his next guest, leaving me be. It wasn't long before I found Charles, and Mencheres, in the library off the foyer. Charles raised his eyebrows at me, and I gave him a barely perceptible shake of my head. If he had anything to say to me about what Ian was scheming now, he bloody well couldn't talk about it in Ian's home. Blast it all, it was going to be an interesting, albeit tense evening, keeping a leash on my reactions to everything Ian might throw at me. Knowing my sire, there was more to come.

It was well past midnight when Ian called me, Charles and Mencheres up to the third floor for cards. It didn't escape my notice that many of his human donors were redheads tonight, and Ian's silent jabs brassed me off to no end, despite having to act like nothing was going on. I didn't know if he was just fishing or if there was some other reason he flaunted the Kitten look-alike's in front of me.

Ian had just won a rather large pot of money on the last hand of poker, and as he stacked his chips he said, "Crispin, I met an acquaintance of yours last month."

"Who might that be, Ian?" The game was on.

Ian gave that sly smile again. "A fetching red-haired girl, a feisty little bird—she seemed to know intimate details about you, mate."

I laughed. "Blimey, Ian—what are you on about? You know how many red-haired girls I've shagged over the years?" Even Charles chuckled and Mencheres smiled at that. Ian's face hardened a bit, and his voice was a little cooler as he leaned toward me.

"Right, then—how many of those birds had a tattoo identical to yours? Hmm? On her right hip, down quite low, I believe it was." Ian raised his eyebrows and looked at me, waiting.

I didn't change my voice or my demeanor when I replied. I kept shuffling the cards, pretending to concentrate on what I was doing. "Had a visit from the Red Reaper, did you? I'm surprised she didn't plug you with her silver and shrivel you right good."

By the end of the second year she was gone from me, I started hearing rumors of a red haired vampire killer, and I knew it had to be her. There was only one Red Reaper, and I had named her. It wasn't her nature to back down from a fight, no matter how strong her opponent. Bloody hell, she had taken me on that first night. As a half-breed, she was harder to kill, but her "balls before brains" attitude was bound to get her in trouble one day. Word was getting around, and more than one client had offered me a contract to kill her, and I had taken the information they had about her—then I killed the bloody sods.

I glanced over at Charles, who was laughing, while Mencheres was watching us spar in his usual cool silence. He had a curious expression on his face as he looked from me to Ian, as if he was trying to judge who would crack first. Ian glanced over at him and noticed, because he laughed as well, before he got serious again.

"Oh, she tried, mate. I must say, Crispin, you trained her well. Bloody hell, she killed Magnus—took his head right off with nary a thought. I didn't fancy losing my friend, and it's not something I'd likely forget."

Charles, to his credit, helped me out here when he decided to join in the conversation as he cut the deck. "Feel like you have a score to settle then, Ian?"

Ian fiddled with his poker chips and then said, "Not really, Charles, considering she let me go after plugging my heart twice with silver." He paused and then laughed a little. "Of course, I _was_ kissing her at the time."

He paused again, watching me and waiting for my reaction to him kissing her. Plugging a Master vampire like Ian was impressive, even if she was still using her cleavage to do it. I wanted to plug him with silver myself at that moment. The thought of him kissing her was almost too much to bear— I kept reminding myself that I'd think of all of this later, but I could feel the territorial rage boiling in me. Bugger, I hoped Ian didn't notice.

"I suppose I have Crispin to thank for her letting me go, since she said she owed you for saving her mum."

I snorted, and dealt out the hand. I smiled thinking of Justina and Ian going at it. "Best be glad you didn't meet her mum, Ian. Frightening woman."

"Indeed. I am thinking the reaper would be quite a piece for me to acquire, wouldn't you say? I rather fancy that over retribution." Ian picked his cards up from the table, arranging them in his hand, all the while watching me as he fiddled with his cards.

"Quite a piece, no doubt." As Ian's plans for "acquiring" Kitten started to take shape, I knew I had to find her before he did, and worst of all, I couldn't think about it now. I had to stay focused on what Ian was revealing. I tried to discourage Ian from going after her as we continued the hand of poker.

"Might not be so easy to take her alive—got a few blokes willing to pay for her head. She's right dangerous for our kind, and I'm looking to take care of that, for the right price. After all, I did train her and know how she works." I could feel Charles and Mencheres eyes on me. "Where was it that you happened to see her, Ian?"

Ian lifted his head up from his cards and his look was like a laser. "Now, why would I tell you that, mate? I don't see you two having a bleeding happy reunion."

"Is that so? What lies did she tell you?"

Ian took a drink and laughed. "The usual sort. She said that you owed her money, didn't pay her for the jobs she worked for you, and even forced her into getting that tattoo I saw when I undressed her."

He added that last bit just to get under my skin, and it was starting to work. I pushed the irritation away, so Ian wouldn't know he was getting to me. My next bit could save her life.

"Blimey, she should have been paying me. Bird was terrible at shagging and kept me up all day with her snoring. Her hygiene left something to be desired as well. In the end, I couldn't be bothered with her or her mum."

Charles kept his eyes down on his cards, while Mencheres set his hand down to watch Ian and me go at it.

"Well, I think she may have overcome some of those deficiencies, Crispin. Not a whiff of any hygiene problems as I slid off her trousers. She's quite an exquisite woman; I don't know why you let her go. The only known half-breed as well. She has put quite the spell on me—must have been something in that kiss we shared. I find I must have her. I have my own people looking for her. You don't still consider her your property, do you?"

Mencheres shifted ever so slightly in his chair. Ian had set this entire night up to see just how much of a challenge I would pose to him. I did bite her and shag her and according to vampire law, she was considered my property, but I knew if I said as much, it would only make Ian want her more. I didn't want to get into a challenge with my sire unless absolutely necessary, but I had to stall Ian, so I took a chance and denied she was my property. Kitten wouldn't have agreed to being property anyway, so it wasn't a complete falsehood.

"She's no one's property at this point, Ian. Maybe Mencheres can tell us, since she was born and not sired, would she even be part of anyone's line?"

Mencheres looked from me to Ian and answered. "I have never heard such a question of lineage. I suppose the Law Guardians could make a ruling, but I do know that marriage trumps lineage."

Ian bristled. "No matter, born or sired, I'll take her as mine." He threw his chips in to place his bet and said, "It is in my favor that the vampire that may have, for lack of better word, _created_ her as a half-breed, may be one of my line as it is."

Blast it all, Kitten's father is one of Ian's people? Now this was news. I just wasn't sure if it was good news.

"Is that so? And who might that be, Ian?" Charles spoke before I had a chance, and I was grateful as I could feel my composure slipping, just a bit. I needed a moment with this new information.

"Some bloke that investigated me before I turned him— seems he liked our retirement plan better than the FBI's. Looks just like the reaper."

I picked up the cards and started shuffling again, keeping my excitement over what Ian just revealed from showing. Randy and I surely had work to do when I returned, we did. Ian had given me a lot of information tonight, and I was eager to get on with it. But bloody hell, having Ian interested in "acquiring" Kitten was dangerous for her _and_ me, so best to end this conversation now, before I slipped up. "Well, best of luck to you, Ian. Faith, you'll need it with that one."

"Love a challenge, I do, Crispin, but thanks for the well wishes." Ian signaled for more drinks at the table and the conversation turned to other subjects. Close to dawn, Ian offered us accommodations.

"Perhaps you and Charles would like to take a few of my red haired lovelies to the guest house for the night?" He waited for our answer, and if we didn't take his bloody offer, he would wonder why. Charles gave me a nod in agreement, and he looked like he needed some breakfast, too.

"Thank you, we'd be happy to take you up on your offer. Will you need me to stay much longer? I've got business to attend to."

Ian gave me a cold stare before answering. "Go tend to your business then, and if you excuse me, I'll attend to mine." He gathered up a few of the human females that were still awake and went downstairs to the second floor bedrooms.

Charles and I took the girls Ian offered us to the guesthouse, had a nice sip and then green-eyed them into thinking we all had a good shag before they passed out. Charles had the valet retrieve his car and he gave me a ride to the airport. To his credit, he didn't say anything except to offer his assistance should I need it, and I was on a plane to Richmond straightaway. Once we were in the air, I finally let down my guard and thought about all that Ian had said.

Kitten was alive. Yes, she had kissed Ian, to lure him in, no doubt, and had even let him start to undress her. The thought of the tattoo, well, that just switched me on. Even though I was brassed off at Ian for his pursuit of her, his encounter with Kitten had filled in some of the missing pieces of the puzzle. And even more important—if she didn't still care for me, why didn't she finish him off? I took it as a sign she still loved me, and a thrill ran through me at the thought.

I'd ring up Randy the first chance I had and we'd get started cracking that FBI database. Maybe Don Williams would turn out to be a good clue after all. Keeping up with what Ian was doing to find her might be more difficult, but I'd manage to plant someone there. I'd find her first—it was the only way.

As I closed my eyes, I thought of my tattoo on her perfect skin, and I mentally traced its outline, remembering the silky softness of her skin under my fingers, before sleep took me under.

* * *

Ian is such a lovable bastard, is he not? Thanks for reading and I love to hear from you, if you feel so inclined, press the green button and let me what you thought of the chapter.

I have to give a shout out to California boy Chris Isaak, for providing some musical inspiration for this chapter. Here is what I listened to, good songs, let me know if you like them.

Baby Did a Bad, Bad, Thing http: // bit. ly / brdQDM

Somebody's Crying http: // bit .ly /bQNOLH

And Ian's house: http:// www. sfproperties. Com / properties/ 1772vallejo/ index. html


	5. Chapter 5

Important stuff first:

Jeaniene Frost owns these wonderful characters. I'm just playing with them.

I couldn't do this without my wonderful beta, Kristin Elizabeth. She's awesome!

If you haven't read her o/s, CrossBones, you really should. It is terrific!

You can find it at: http: // www. fanfiction. net/ s/ 5731620/ 1/ CrossBones

* * *

As soon as the plane landed in Richmond, I texted Randy MacGregor to meet me at our favorite bar tonight. After four and a half years of nary a clue as to Kitten's whereabouts, my sire had unknowingly supplied one, and hearing that Kitten's father had been an FBI agent put a whole new twist on her disappearance. I had to get into that blasted FBI database, and my mate, Randy, had the computer skills to do it. I needed his help to find Kitten before Ian or anyone else found her. I hadn't known him long, but Randy seemed to be a trustworthy bloke and it might be the only way to keep her alive.

Ian's pursuit of Kitten, coupled with the serious offers for her head, had turned my hunt for her into a race against the clock. I didn't fancy fighting Ian for her, but if it came to that, I bloody well would. The contracts to kill her were a different story, and I wasn't the only hit man around. A contract hit was a far more dangerous scenario. At least I was as close as ever to finding her, and I wasn't about to stop now. If Randy came through with what I needed, I'd be golden.

When we met that night, I challenged Randy to break into the FBI's witness protection database, and like all good hackers, he accepted. I gave him a list of key words, names and locations to look for before we left the bar that night, although I didn't explain exactly what or who I was looking for. Indeed, to say he was excited about what he was about to do would have been an understatement.

Randy had information for me the very next night. He was a bloody genius with the computer. We always met at the same place, and instead of sitting at the bar, we sat at a table in the back where it was more private. After a quick drink, Randy leaned over, and in a low voice told me what he had found.

"I was only able to get limited access into the witness protection database, but I think I got a hit on something you might be interested in. I found a notation that requests a transport from Licking Falls, Ohio to Chicago two days ago. Isn't Licking Falls one of the places you wanted me to search for?"

I could barely keep the excitement from my voice. "Details, mate. I need details."

"Well, normally, notations like that are deleted automatically, but I must have just caught it in time. Does the name, Daniel Milton mean anything to you? If I cross reference that note with the rest of the database, I found a new record that isn't completely encrypted yet. I'm still working on breaking the encryption key, so I don't have much, but I've got a D. Williams as the agent in charge, and a Danny Milton being processed into the program. His current location is listed as Chicago. Looks like some sort of medical flag on the record, too."

"What do you mean, medical flag?"

"Well, I'm just guessing now, but I think it means he is injured or sick. I'll poke around some more and see what else I can find, but I can't stay on too long without getting noticed. It's better if I take quick peeks, you know what I mean?"

Randy slid a printout of what he found over to me. "I shouldn't print any more, just in case. But I wanted you to know I was telling the truth."

I took a quick look at the paper, planning on burning it when I got outside. Randy grinned at the look of amazement on my face. I clasped his shoulder and shook my head in disbelief.

"Excellent work, Randy. I'll be on my way to Chicago tonight then. Keep trying to break that key and ring me up if you get any further. Thanks, mate."

"No problem, Bones. I'll be calling you." We finished our drinks and I walked Randy out to his car.

I had one stop to make, and I'd be on a plane to Chicago later that night. Randy worked his magic with the computer again, and by the time I arrived at O'Hare, he had texted me the name of the hospital associated with the transport request. It was only a matter of time before I'd get the room number from some lovely working at the hospital. Once I had the room number, I'd put the rest of my plan into play. If Danny Milton was involved, I'd wager Kitten was involved, as well.

I met my mate, Rodney, in the parking garage for the Northwestern Memorial Hospital later that same night. Oh, I had plans for Danny Milton, I did. He would finally pay for date raping Kitten, and for betraying her to the police. There were only a few nurses on duty in the early morning hours, and the guard was dozing on a chair outside the room. I had been waiting in the stairwell until the nurses were occupied at the other end of the hall, and when the time was right, I went over to the guard and green-eyed him into forgetting he saw me. Then I went in the room and did the same to Danny Milton.

Before I took the bloody sod out to Rodney, I pulled Kitten's watch from my pocket. I had stopped to get it on my way to the airport. It was both a message and invitation to her. The spot next to the phone on the side table looked like a bloody good place to leave it. Once Danny Milton was discovered missing, the FBI would be all over this place and I hoped she would find it. I hated to part with it, but if she pressed that little button, I would be waiting. I needed to know—did she let Ian go out of a sense of obligation, or to pay me back for saving her mum, or could she still love me, like she said she would? Whatever the reason, we had unfinished business, and I would find her.

Getting Danny Milton out to Rodney's car was easy. I convinced him we were FBI agents from the witness protection program, coming to take him to his new location. A peep of the green-eyes and he was docile as a lamb. Once the bloody sod was secured in Rodney's car and on his way to Indiana, all I had to do was wait for the FBI team to arrive at the hospital.

**oooo**

I didn't dare go near the sod's room while the FBI were there. They'd know what I was—so I waited in the parking garage or watched from across the street while they tore that room apart. They scurried around like mice searching for scraps of cheese. I did catch a glimpse of the bloke that I tossed on the highway on that day I rescued Kitten—the day before she left me. It couldn't be a coincidence. She had to be there.

Two days I waited, and the bloody pager never went off. With each passing moment, the anger and sadness I felt when she left me returned, bit by bit. I had been so sure she would push the button, I never thought about what I'd do if she didn't. It felt like she was leaving me all over again, only this time, there was no cave to wreck to let out my anger, and no rationale for her actions, except that she didn't want to see me. Had she lied when she said she loved me, that she would love me every day until she died? Or did she just move on, like she said I should in her note? Maybe I should get on with my life—without her. The thought was a silver knife in my heart. Or maybe I should let Ian find her, and wait for her to beg me to save her from what he'd planned for her. Maybe I should let some other hit man take her out, and put me out of my misery, once and for all. Then, maybe I could go back to my former existence, lonely as it was. She wrecked me. Again.

**oooo**

I had planned to go straightaway to Indiana to take care of Danny Milton, but I was knackered. I scrolled through the phone numbers on my mobile and found Annette's number in Chicago— maybe she was in town. Bloody hell, I didn't want to be alone.

Annette owned an apartment in a luxury high rise in downtown Chicago. It didn't take long to get there, and I was relieved she was otherwise unoccupied tonight. She must have sensed my mood, because she pulled me into her arms as soon as she opened her door. It felt good to be held by a woman. It had been so long, and the history I shared with Annette was a comfort to me. We stood there, holding each other, until she finally pulled away. Her face was full of concern.

"Crispin, what's wrong? Have you fed? You look bloody awful." She led me over to the couch and sat me down, keeping her arm around me.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Annette. I just don't want to be alone tonight."

"Well, you are staying here then, and when you are ready, you can tell me what's wrong."

She stroked my back, and it felt good. I needed the comfort. I ran my hand through my hair in frustration, and turned to her beside me. I had told her about Kitten years ago when she first ran off, so I filled her in on Ian's party and why I was in Chicago.

"Blast it, Annette, I thought I had found her this time. I really did. Ian's after her, there are contracts on her head, and she…" I couldn't finish. Annette pulled me to her, cradling my head between her breasts. I let her. I needed her tonight, and she was there for me.

"Crispin, you need to relax. Let's go to bed." She whispered.

She gently caressed my face and kissed me tenderly. After years without a woman's touch, I responded. I pulled her to me, and I kissed her more deeply, trying to erase the memory of Kitten's kisses from my mind. After a few minutes, Annette rose from the couch, and took my hand, leading me into her bedroom.

She sat me down on the bed, and kissed me again, undressing me slowly. Her lips were soft and soothing—I couldn't help but respond to her. It wasn't long before we were naked and locked together in each other's arms, sliding into the old familiar patterns that we had perfected over the last two hundred years.

Part of me wanted to stop, and another part of me wanted to erase every memory of making love to Kitten by taking Annette right now. I tried not to think of her as I kissed Annette all over, but she kept on entering my mind, taunting me that everything between us had been a lie. I remembered my first taste of her, and ached with desire to taste her again. I pulled Annette to me, nibbling and licking, using my tongue and lips all over her, looking for the special scent and flavor of another. I was the one that was lying, fooling myself that it was my Kitten I was pleasing, and when Annette's release came, my own emotions shattered. I couldn't pretend any longer. No matter how much I loved her, and wanted her at that moment, my Kitten wasn't here with me, and my eyes were wet with tears over it.

Annette waited a moment, then pulled me up to her shoulder and held me in her arms, brushing away the streaks of pink running down my cheeks. I didn't want to hurt her, but I couldn't continue, and she knew it.

"I'm sorry." My voice was quiet and tired.

She continued to stroke my shoulders and spoke gently. "Can I say I hate her for what she is doing to you?"

I laughed, a little. "Sometimes I wish I could hate her. But she means more than anything to me. I love her. I loved her from the first minute I saw her."

Annette sighed. "Well, you need to find her then. If Ian gives you any trouble, I'm with you, just let me know when you need me. But I don't like what she is doing to you—I can't bear to see it."

"I'm just knackered. I need some time. Thank you again, for taking care of me." She knew what I meant. She had always taken care of me. She smiled.

"Crispin, stay here. Things will look better after you rest."

I waited until Annette fell asleep, and left quietly, with new resolve to continue my hunt. After all, I did have an appointment with Danny Milton, and it was a long drive to Indiana.

**oooo**

When I finally arrived at Rodney's, I pushed back the memories of the last time I was here, almost 4 and a half years ago. I hadn't been to Rodney's house since Kitten left me. In all that time, Rodney never suggested we meet here – he was a good mate like that. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper when I walked in. He took one look at me, quickly reading my intentions, and without saying a word, got up and grabbed a set of keys hanging by the basement door. He unlocked it, and I followed him down to the room in the basement that Justina had occupied that night, all those years ago. Rodney grinned as he rattled the keys in his hand to let the bloody sod know we were coming for him. Before he opened the door, I reminded him of our agreement.

"Rodney, I'll want you to take care of this wanker right quick when I'm done with him, but we are going to have a little fun first." Rodney nodded in agreement.

I had the entire bloody ride from Chicago to Indiana to plan my evening with dear old Danny Milton. Oh, I would keep my promise to Kitten to never cripple, maim, dismember, blind, torture, bleed, or otherwise inflict any injury on him, or watch while someone else does. I didn't need to watch. If I played this right, I'd relinquish the pleasure of watching the bloody sod pay for what he did to Kitten and still have my satisfaction. It was my turn to smile when I heard the wanker's bleeding heart rate speed up as Rodney unlocked and opened the door.

When he saw us coming through the door, Danny Milton scurried to get as far away from us as possible, but the handcuffs anchoring him to the bed frame didn't let him go very far. He looked like he hadn't slept since we took him from the hospital and the gunshot wound in his side oozed through shirt. Even though fear was the primary scent wafting from him, I could still smell a shard of hopefulness, as if he thought there was a possibility he might be able to talk his way out of this. Bloody fool.

I grabbed the ladderback chair near the door and brought it next to the bed. Just to tease the wanker, I took the keys from Rodney and unlocked the handcuffs. He massaged his wrists while looking expectantly at me. Rodney took a position near the doorway, settling against the doorframe to watch the upcoming show. As I sat down, the bloody fool started to talk.

"What are you going to do to me?" His voice was shaky, and I thought he might even cry.

"Just ask you a few questions, that's all. I want you to tell me how you got shot."

He looked at Rodney and then back at me before answering. "I was cleaning my gun and it went off."

I gave him a hard stare. "I don't believe you."

"I don't remember any of it, but when I woke up in the hospital, that's what the nurses and doctor told me. They said the shock made me forget what happened."

I snorted. "Indeed. How about we see if I can help you remember, shall we?"

It was easy to catch and hold his eyes from where I was sitting. A few minutes with the green-eyes on did the trick—it didn't take long to undo the FBI's mind work. Danny Milton's eyes widened.

"You! You broke my hand!" He grasped it as if he remembered the pain. "What do you want with me?"

He recoiled as I smiled, showing him my fangs, and the scent of his fear filled the room even more. I enjoyed breathing it in. Sure, I could trance the information I wanted out of him, and maybe I would have to, but I wanted him lucid. He needed to be aware of everything that was to come. In a quiet, almost consoling voice, I told the wanker what I wanted. "I want you…to tell me… how you got shot."

"Then you'll let me go?"

Stupid bloody sod. "Sure. I'll let you go."

"You want to know about Catherine, don't you?" There was a hint of cockiness in his voice.

I leaned closer. "Well, you are pretty quick there, mate. Yes, was she there when you got shot?" My face was cold and expressionless, but my insides clenched waiting for his answer.

"Yeah, she was there—she's the one that shot me! Hurt like hell, too. I thought she was going to kill me."

That's my girl. I turned my head to look at Rodney, and to hide the smile that creased my face. The thought of Kitten shooting this bloody sod made Rodney smile, too.

"What else happened that day?"

"Some freaks like you kidnapped me, took me to that cave, and chained me to a wall. It was dark, so I couldn't see much. They waited for her to come to save me, but when she got there, she kept saying something about bones, and they got mad. Then they unchained me and brought me out to her—and she shot me! I wasn't really paying attention after that, since I was in pain, but I think one of the freaks killed an FBI agent and I didn't see her after that."

Bloody hell, she had been at the cave. "What else did Catherine say?"

"I was shot. I don't really remember." His voice had a thread of defiance to it. Did this wanker think I felt sorry for him?

I put my right hand out like I wanted to shake his hand, and he took it out of habit before realizing it was just what I did the night I broke his hand in the bar. He tried to pull back, but I had a grip by then. Suddenly his memory returned.

"Virginia – she said Virginia! She was pissed I was the reason she had to come all the way from Virginia. I remember now."

"Good. Do you remember any else? Names, perhaps?" I squeezed his hand—again.

"Lazarus. That's the only name I heard. I don't remember anything else. I swear!"

Lazarus was the name of a hit man I knew. I dropped his hand.

The cool air in the basement crackled as I released some of my power into it before starting the grand finale.

"Do you know what we have here, Rodney?"

"A liar?"

"Not a liar—a sodding rapist. That's what we have here."

"Not much worse than a rapist, in my book, Bones."

"Indeed. How about someone who will rape a virgin? What do you think about that, Rodney?

Danny Milton pressed himself up against the wall. He was just about pissing himself by this point. Rodney moved away from the door and stood against the wall next to him. I got up and put my chair back and leaned against the door frame where Rodney had been standing.

"Has my mate Rodney, told you about his special diet, yet, you sodding bastard?"

I really wasn't expecting an answer.

"Why don't you enlighten him, Rodney?

Rodney bent down and whispered in his ear. By the time he finished saying the words, "human flesh", the sod's heart thumped so hard I thought it would explode in his chest. If he had any color in his face, it was gone now, and the sheen of sweat made his white skin look gray. It was cool in Rodney's basement bedroom and he started to shiver. I made sure he could see me smile at his look of complete and total fear.

Rodney smiled too and walked back to the door to block it.

"I've got to get back, mate. Got things to do. I'll ring you." I paused and looked back at Danny Milton with an arch of my brow. "Bon Appetit, Rodney."

I could hear Danny Milton start to cry for mercy as I walked up the basement stairs and out of the house. As I got in my car, with a smile on my face, I wasn't thinking of him—I was thinking of Kitten. I would never give up, and now I was closer than ever to finding her, even if she didn't want to be found.

* * *

Okay, so what do you think? Are you ready for Bones to get back with his Kitten? I know I am! I'd love for you to tell me what you think about my little fic, so please press the green button and leave a review to help motivate me to write the final chapter! Thanks for reading!

If you want to read more about what happens between Danny and Rodney, take a look at my story, My Dinner with Danny at http : // www . fanfiction . net / s / 5816970 / 1 / My_Dinner_with_Danny

Hugs, TM


	6. Chapter 6

All characters created and owned by Jeaniene Frost. I'm only playing with them.

Many thanks to my beautiful beta, friend and lemon sister, Kristin Elizabeth. If there are any errors in the story, they are all mine.  
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I sat at my usual seat in the pub waiting for Randy to join me. Sipping my whiskey, I thought about the latest information he had gleaned from the FBI databases. Thanks to Danny Milton, I concentrated my search on Virginia after I returned from Chicago and Randy and I continued searching the databases for any link between Kitten's former FBI agent father, Max, and Don Williams, the FBI agent whose name appeared on the death records and autopsy report. I'd wager there was a connection there, but we just hadn't found it—yet.

Along with the witness protection database, we tried a host of other FBI databases, but Randy still couldn't hack into the bleeding personnel data. That's the one we needed. I had Randy show me how to access everything he could, and I spent my free time looking for any hint of information that could bloody well lead me to her. We found very little, but then, I had no clue what alias she was using, and it was that blasted fake name hiding the details from us. It was bloody frustrating, but I kept on. What else could I do with Ian hot on her trail?

Randy's wedding was a mere four days away, and I hadn't heard much from him of late. I assumed he was preoccupied with planning the nuptials. He had warned me he was moving his furniture into his fiancé's house tonight. No wonder he wasn't here yet. I offered to help and told him to ring me up, but Randy said his fiancé had already arranged for a friend to come over.

I was happy for Randy and his impending nuptials. We had met here in this pub months ago, two lonely old sods, looking to drown our sorrows in pub talk and alcohol. He was easy going and open-minded, and we got along from the start. He wasn't bothered by the fact I was a vampire, and we met here once a month for drinks. I was right glad to have the companionship, not to mention his computer skills. When he announced he was in love and had asked Denise to marry after only two weeks, I extended my congratulations. Indeed, in my mind, two weeks was plenty of time to fall in love. I fell in love with Kitten straightaway, and I had planned to ask her to marry me, but instead, she had left me. As far as I was concerned, Randy was a smart bloke for not wasting time with a long engagement, and I was happy to accept when he asked me to be a groomsman. I owed him that much, for his companionship, and for his help hacking into the FBI, as well.

So there I was, at the pub, waiting for Randy, when out of nowhere, I caught a whiff of her scent in the air. Bloody hell. At first, I thought I imagined it, but I took a deep breath and it was most definitely her perfect scent. I looked around the pub, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. It wasn't strong enough for her to be here in the pub, but someone in this pub had been in physical contact with her, and the contact was recent. When the trace of her became stronger, my mind reeled, and I looked in astonishment at where it was coming from. Bollocks! Her scent was coming from Randy—he had just arrived, and he was covered in her. When and where had he come into contact with Kitten? What was he doing with her that he carried her scent so clearly? Moving?

As Randy came closer, her scent became stronger, and my thoughts became chaotic. So fresh and untainted, it overwhelmed me, and went directly from my nose to my brain, triggering memories that I had long repressed. A flurry of images bombarded my brain, rising from the depths where I had buried them. Her beautiful red hair, tangled in my hands, smelling of the shampoo she liked, and obviously still used. My senses were drinking her in, and I didn't have time to get angry that Randy had been in such close contact with her. I breathed, stimulating my memories again, and more recollections came flooding back, one after the other. My lips on her throat, my nose taking in the special scent on her neck, a mixture of vampire and her own special fragrance that made my blood rush. Once painful memories were unleashed by the freshness of her—I hadn't allowed myself to think of them for so long, and now I couldn't hold them back. My mouth watered with the remembrance of my first taste of her sweet blood, the night she gave herself to my bite. A movie of our time together, a tableau of images, every remembrance in crystalline clarity, ran through my mind. Her voice in my ear, whispering she loved me, so soft and sensual, her sweet mouth on me, everywhere. The way she liked to lick my neck in one long stroke—I shuddered with that memory. My senses ruled my body, and I couldn't control my thoughts, or the flow of my blood. I wondered if I would release or expire, right where I sat. But that didn't stop me from breathing her in again, and again, drowning in the memories provoked by the essence that was hers alone.

I could see Randy's lips moving, but I couldn't understand a word he was saying. No, I was reliving the pleasure of her warm, naked body, pressed up against my skin, her hands touching me intimately, and it was almost too much to bear. I felt her arms around me, pulling me close. It was torment and joy, all rolled up together. I wanted to let myself go and just sink into the feeling.

"Bones!"

I could hear someone calling my name, but it wasn't her voice. Reality seeped in.

"Bones! What's wrong? You okay?" Randy had me by the arm, shaking me, trying to get my attention.

A second or two passed before I could speak.

"Hallo, mate. Just lost in thought for a moment." I said it casually, while internally attempting to regain my composure. I ran my hand through my hair as my mind cleared, although I didn't really want to stop the luscious memories of her now. I gave Randy a hard look. Blimey, how could he possibly have Kitten's scent all over him? I hadn't detected it on him prior, so he had been with Kitten for the first time tonight. He was moving his furniture. Did Kitten know Randy's fiancé? Was she there tonight, so close by after four years of searching? Could I really be this close to finding her? The thought of it shook me in more ways than I could count.

"Are you sure you're all right Bones?" Randy raised a brow in concern, as he watched my chest moving in and out. He knew I didn't normally breathe like that.

I laughed, trying to make light of the situation, then answered.

"Just fine, mate, don't worry about me. Right then, so how did the move go? All settled in, are you?"

Randy gave me a look that said he didn't quite believe me, and then he shrugged it off before sliding onto his own barstool. Randy relaxed, and he laughed. "All moved in. Although, I thought I was going to have to call you when I got there."

"I would have helped. You should have rung me." I took a deep swallow of whiskey. My composure returned, along with my reason, and in truth, it was best I didn't see her tonight. When I did find her, I would need a plan. It wouldn't do to go into this blind.

"At first, I thought we might be there all night, but as it turns out we got it done. Denise had her best friend come over, and we had everything moved and in place in a half hour. Her friend was…impressive, to say the least. You wouldn't have known by the looks of her, but hey, I'm not complaining. I am officially moved." Randy announced.

"Impressive? Indeed. So, will this friend be at the wedding? Do you think I'd fancy her?" I said it jokingly, hoping to hide all the other emotions that were swirling inside me. Randy looked pleased and a bit surprised, since I hadn't been very interested in those of the feminine persuasion the entire time we'd known each other. I think he suspected there was someone from my past I was trying to get over, and he never broached the subject. Right perceptive of him, I'd say.

"She's Denise's maid of honor. I just met her tonight myself, but she has been helping Denise with the wedding, even paid for the photographer and cake and somehow got Denise's parents to come to the wedding. She might have a boyfriend, at least I think we invited him to the wedding. Don't know how serious it is though. I had the impression she didn't date much from what Denise told me."

Bloody hell, hearing she might have moved on with another man was a blow, but it wasn't going to stop me. I had four days to consider all of her possible reactions to seeing me again, and work out a plan in response to them. I could bloody well use the time, and if there was a boyfriend, I'd deal with the wanker. Randy took a drink and then looked over at me.

Why, are you interested?" He raised his eyebrows at me and grinned, teasing me.

He had no idea.

Without looking too eager, I shrugged and answered him. "Sure. Why not? What's her name?"

"She introduced herself as Cat. I'm not sure I remember her real name. Hmm…oh yeah, Cristine something." He paused for a moment. "Cristine Russell—that's it."

My mind started spinning again. Bloody hell, Cristine…Russell...using my name, was she? I clutched my glass and signaled to the bartender to bring us another round, controlling the impulse to run out of the pub and scour the bloody streets until I found her. Could it really be that she was right here all along, and she was using my human name as her alias? All these years, I wondered if she had moved on, but surely, her using my last name meant she still cared something for me, right? Did she really have a boyfriend, as Randy said? I would be finding out soon, that was certain.

"Bones, I gotta ask…is something wrong? You've got that funny look again." Randy was watching me intently.

"Sorry mate, I'm just knackered. I stayed up all day on the computer, when I should have been resting." Actually, that wasn't far from the truth.

The bartender brought the round of drinks and Randy talked through the plans for the wedding festivities. I only half listened to him, because I was forming my own plans for his wedding day, and they had nothing to do with him or his bride. Would she be happy to see me? Or try to run again? I'd wager she would bloody well try to run again, and this time I would be prepared.

After a few more drinks and some time at the billiards table, we decided to call it a night. After all, Randy had a wedding to rest up for and I had a reunion with Kitten to plan.

~0~0~0~

As Randy drove away from the pub, I jumped in my car and grabbed my laptop from the back seat. My thoughts weren't so twisted now that Kitten's scent went with him. Oh, I could have enjoyed it all night, as it were, but I had work to do. First up was checking the public utilities database. Let's see if Cristine Russell had an address.

Once I found a good signal, I pulled over and started searching the databases like Randy had shown me. It wasn't long before I had Kitten's address—or should I say Cristine's address? The thought of her using my name as her alias made me smile. Even though I'd already planned to wait until the wedding to confront her, I was going to her house tonight. I just needed to see where she lived, and confirm for myself I had truly found her. The flow of memories from earlier intensified my longing for her, and I couldn't deny the bone-deep feelings I had kept at bay for my own protection and survival these past four years. I needed more of her, and I needed it now.

It didn't take long to find the house, and I parked my car a few streets away, going on foot the rest of the way to her home at the end of the cul-de-sac. It was a quiet neighborhood. When I came near the driveway, I picked up her scent again, confirming I was at the right house. She wasn't home, and the open window on the upper floor invited me in. Once inside, her scent assaulted me again, and I was bloody well relieved when I didn't detect the smell of any other bloody sod in her bedroom.

I looked around her bedroom, resisting the urge to touch everything. I opened her closet to check inside. Besides reveling in the scent of her, the contents shocked me—no pretty dresses, only suits, workout clothes, and one little black dress. I smiled when I found the usual box of silver knives tucked in the back, out of sight. I took a quick peek through the other rooms of the house, and the austerity struck me. It made me a little sad to see that her life looked like all work and no play, and in truth, her place didn't look much different from mine. The house wasn't a home—she just existed here. _Oh, Kitten._ In spite of often being angry with her for how she left me, I always hoped she was happy with her life and decision. Strong emotions rose up, and I pushed them down. Looking around and thinking about her life here made me want to stay and see her tonight, to wrap my arms around her. But I held no illusions that she would just fall back into my arms. I was certain she would run if I confronted her now, and she'd be lost to me again, this time with Ian and an unknown hit man after her. No, I had to be patient, as much as it pained me.

I left the same way I came in, and found a safe place to watch the house from a distance. About a half hour later, she arrived home and I smiled when I saw she was still driving the Volvo I gave her four years ago, the one reported totaled. She got out of the car, and for the first time in four and a half years, I saw her. She was as beautiful as ever and my body shook at the sight of her. Oh, how I wanted to touch her, hold her, wrap myself around her and hear her sweet voice again. I resisted the urge to run to her, reminding myself to be patient. The wedding would be a better place and time. She couldn't make a scene at the wedding, and there was more I had to find out about her. I couldn't risk losing her again. I watched her pause in the driveway and put her hands out before entering the house. Did she feel me there? I stayed a while longer, just so I could be close to her, and to make sure she was safely tucked inside.

I could hardly believe my luck. After four years, I had finally found her, thanks to Randy and Denise. I marveled at the coincidence of it all.

~0~0~0~

The next four days passed by too bloody fast, and yet, time didn't seem to go by fast enough. Every day I followed her, learning where she worked, how she spent her day, making sure she didn't catch wind I had found her and try to run.

Four and a half years, and today I would finally face her. _I will love you every day until I die. _Her words echoed in my mind as I dressed for the wedding, and today I would see if she would make good on that promise. I fantasized about her running into my arms, telling me how she missed me, and that she would never leave me again. I laughed a little, knowing it was bloody well unlikely to go down like that. She was too stubborn to let go of the notion that I needed protection, and she'd still deny her feelings rather than face her mum and now, her vampire-killing employers. No, there would be no grand proclamations of love from her tonight.

I also knew she wouldn't spoil her best friend's wedding. No, she would behave with proper decorum during the wedding and reception, and it would buy me a few hours with her before she ran. Indeed, more likely, she would be seething mad I had found her. And what better way to find out about her boyfriend. If she truly didn't care about me anymore, I would know soon enough, and I would try to persuade her otherwise.

There was also Ian's pursuit of her. She was the one needing protection, not me. Although the possibility she had moved on with another man burned like silver, even under those conditions, I couldn't let Ian force her. She wouldn't go willingly, and Ian already knew she could best him in a one-on-one fight. No, my sire would want to settle this on his terms, and wouldn't hesitate to play dirty, especially after her killing Magnus. The situation held great potential for nastiness, and I couldn't let him force her or abuse her mum, in spite of Justina's hatred of "filthy animals" such as myself. The blasted sod of a boyfriend, well, that was different story. I wanted to snap him in half myself. She was mine.

Even more dangerous than Ian was the price on her head by persons unknown. Who took out that bloody contract on her? Whoever it was knew too much about her. I hadn't traced the source, but one thing I knew for certain was the professional killers would be back at it. No body, no money, as it were. Kitten's mum was in danger as well and would make right good bait. Someone wanted her dead, and they had gotten too bloody close to doing the deed. Too close. She would have my protection, whether she wanted it or not.

I arrived at the country club just as the ceremony was scheduled to begin. Randy was pacing and gave me an exasperated look.

"Bones! Good, you're here. I was getting nervous." Randy wasn't the only one a bit nervous today.

"Sorry, mate. Traffic. Hope I didn't hold you up." I had been outside, watching the guests arrive for the last hour, but Randy didn't need to know that. Couldn't have Kitten seeing me too soon and it was too risky with her mum here as well. I wouldn't want Justina to turn me out. Randy spoke to a bloke that must have been his best man, and probably a relative by the looks and smell of him.

"Phil, go see if Denise is ready, okay?

While Phillip was gone to let Denise know we were ready to start, Randy introduced me to the other groomsmen and we took our places at the front of the sanctuary. I scanned the guests until I found Justina, and the bloke sitting next to her. Kitten's bloody wanker boyfriend. Well, not for long.

The music began just as Phillip took his place next to Randy, and the groomsmen lined up to face the back of the sanctuary. The first bridesmaid walked down the center aisle, and I took a quick look over at my mate, Randy. He looked as nervous as I was. I'd been waiting for this moment for four and a half bloody years. Like Randy, nothing in my existence would be the same after tonight.

The music changed tempo. Kitten stood at the entrance-way, and I tweaked my power a little to get her attention. By the time I wondered if she felt me, she was already searching the room, looking for the source of the power. I breathed her scent, and tuned out all the other heartbeats in the room except hers. The moment she recognized me her heart rate zoomed, booming wildly in her chest. Her scent changed too, becoming a provocative mixture of desire and happiness that sent a shudder through me. She was so beautiful, even if her now-brown hair wasn't my cup of tea. I looked in her eyes, and saw the green swirls of desire in them, just for a moment, before the green dissolved away, replaced by something else. But her first reaction had been joy, and it merged with my happiness at seeing her. I held onto the feeling like a lifeline.

We watched each other warily during the wedding ceremony, sneaking glances at each other. Her heart rate might have slowed some, but it still galloped in her chest, exposing how she felt and she knew I could detect it. I smiled when Kitten had to be reminded to take the bride's flowers during the ceremony. She was as unsettled as I was the night Randy met me at the pub covered in her scent.

When the ceremony concluded, she frantically looked around the room, hurrying the wedding party down the aisle and out the door. She ran from the room, leaving her bouquet of flowers behind. I picked it up and handed it to one of the bridesmaids. I took my time following her, knowing she would not risk ruining the wedding, especially with Justina in attendance. That woman could still strike fear in her.

She moved quickly through the country club halls, never looking back to see if I followed. When I got to the loo where she was hiding, I waited outside the door, giving her a few minutes to compose herself. When her heart rate slowed just a bit, I pushed open the door, and locked it behind me. The game was on.

She was sitting on the floor with her head on her knees, looking nothing like the cool, professional killer she was. Seeing me had shaken her to the core, but there was no remorse in me for her distressed state as I spoke my first words to her in four and half years.

"Hallo, Kitten."

She looked up at me, and I vowed I would never let her go again.

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A short epilogue will conclude this story. Thanks to everyone for sticking with this story and I'm grateful to those leaving reviews—they help motivate me when the words don't seem to flow, and at times, even give me ideas for the story. Taking a few minutes to leave a review really does mean something. Thank you.

In case you missed it, there is an extended Danny/Rodney scene in a new story entitled, My Dinner with Danny. Find out what happened after Bones leaves Rodney's.

And if you are looking for some more Cat & Bones check out these fics and authors: Norcrisp76 (Heroes and Hitmen) and Sunkisz (Coming Together Again)


	7. Chapter 7

_**Jeaniene Frost created these wonderful characters. I'm only playing with them. The writing in italics is a direct quote from One Foot in the Grave.**_

_**

* * *

Epilogue**_

**Mencheres POV**

The knife hovered over her palm for an instant that seemed like forever, before she swiped the blade across it. Covered in Grendel's gore, her body tensed with power and passion, her eyes locked with Bones'—she was magnificent.

_"Bound together forever, huh? Sounds good to me. By my blood, Bones, you are my husband. Is that what I'm supposed to say? Is that right?"_

Her voice was strong and unwavering, as was his response. Together, they transcended magnificent.

Almost five years of nudging destiny into place culminated tonight with a single slice of a blade. They were the product of fate, circumstance, and manipulation, so perfectly arranged.

The power in their comingled blood converged magically with mine, creating a sensation that was intoxicating and rich, like sweet wine running in my veins. Was it his love for her I felt, or my own love for him? Both justified my actions. Both soothed my undead soul.

Tonight's event consummated what I had recognized long ago. My power was his destiny, and by association, hers. Instinct told me centuries ago there would be no other to take my place and protect my people—my visions merely confirmed it.

Yes, Ian would be incensed at the perceived slight, but impulse and arrogance were the hallmark of soldiers, not leaders. Ian's gift of ruthless manipulation would serve best elsewhere in the protection of my people. While I loved Charles, his extreme loyalty and depth of emotion favored a different role, one rooted in his friendship and affection for Bones, a role yet to be carved out.

No, it was Bones who was naturally ordained to inherit my line upon my final death, his prowess as a leader equal to mine, with the potential for so much more. Being master of his own line, and married to this fierce woman, would bring him one step closer to his destiny.

Would he understand why I kept them apart for more than four years when I had possessed the information to reunite them? It took my power and quite a few favors, but I had known where she lived, and where she worked for some time. From a distance, I observed the weight of her loneliness, supported by her immense resolve to protect him. She possessed an astonishing power of mind and body with a willingness to stay the course at great emotional cost. Her need to protect him was no different from mine.

I withheld her location from him, while he learned the measure of what he could bear and deepened his already considerable skills in patience and persistence. In return, I secretly watched over her, protecting her from harm. Her death was the one thing I would not allow him to endure. This I did for him, not to fulfill my visions, but because I loved him.

On occasion, his loneliness and longing shredded his determination, and I was tempted to ease his pain. I resisted with clear intent to sustain my line and preserve his destiny to rule it. However, my resolve was not always strong, and I brought some modicum of relief to their loneliness in the form of Denise and Randy, without upsetting plans already in motion. I had not anticipated or envisioned what was to come from these actions.

Denise would never remember meeting me that night in New York, nor would she remember my suggestion to move to Virginia. Beautiful and quick-witted, she reminded me of Cat in some ways, and complemented her in others. Although I set up the vampire bite that allowed Cat to rescue Denise, a friendship formed quickly there, and I did not even have to use my influence to seal their affections. It was simply a matter of putting them together at the right place, time, and circumstance.

Randy posed a stronger challenge, with his natural immunities to mind control, but in the end, my power and a few well-crafted suggestions meant that Bones would never know I had delivered an expert computer hacker into his hands.

When Randy and Denise fell in love, it was a pleasant and unexpected turn of events, one not foretold. I wondered if the gods were directing _me_ in my manipulations. When their human wedding ceremony became the stage for Cat and Bones' reconciliation, surely Isis rewarded my intentions. How could I think otherwise? I may have positioned the players but their actions and outcomes were either fate, or the work of gods.

Now, Bones and Cat were blood bound forever, a formidable force of love, power, and destiny lashed together. Would their journey have taken them here without my intervention? After four thousand years of existence, I still do not know if my visions are absolute truth or simply possibilities. I would not wager my line to answer that question. I did what I must.

My attention turned back to the arena before me. As I listened to Bones reveal Max's treachery, I saw us all moving forward on our collective journey. Bones and Cat were in place for their next lessons, with Spade and Ian as collateral protection. I smiled as I watched Bones, Cat and Spade leave. My visions told me onerous days would soon be upon us, and I would heed their message, as always.

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Many thanks to my wonderfully talented beta, Kristin Elizabeth, I can never thank you enough.

And thanks to all the readers that stuck with this story, my first multi-chapter fic. *hugs*


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